


to spend my life in spitting distance of the love that i have known

by mysteriesofloves



Series: time will tell if i can be well (and rise to meet you rightly) [2]
Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Post Series, anti chuck bass, like blink and you’ll miss it, minor nate/serena, tw for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriesofloves/pseuds/mysteriesofloves
Summary: A successful love story should not be about eternal possession. No, it should be about emancipation. — Céline Sciamma
Relationships: Dan Humphrey/Blair Waldorf
Series: time will tell if i can be well (and rise to meet you rightly) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639789
Comments: 21
Kudos: 162





	to spend my life in spitting distance of the love that i have known

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel to tap me clean. Hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at mysteriesofloves.

The first time Blair watched _Sabrina_ with Henry, he was four years old. 

_ “You have to start them early,” she’d said to Chuck, although he hadn’t protested, hadn’t said anything, actually. Only looked up at her from over his morning paper when she dropped her collection of DVDs on the coffee table. “Boys with taste grow into men with class.”  _

_ He nodded listlessly, and she debated started a fight just to get him to care.  _

Wouldn’t you have wanted your mother to do things like this with you? 

_But they’re not children anymore. So she plucked the paper from his hands and settled into his lap, taking a sip from his coffee cup._ It’s not always bad, _she thought._ Not unless you make it.

They had started with _Tiffany’s_ , then took a break for dinner. Chuck had left on a trip to Dubai that evening, and Blair had sent the help home. It was just her and Henry, the pattering of his footsteps echoing through the house. 

She had known what she was doing, when she took the DVD from its case, when she placed it in, when she pressed play. Walking by that case on the shelf, seeing Hepburn and Holden and Bogart on the cover, felt like seeing a ghost. 

Henry hadn’t cared for Tiffany’s, and cared even less so for Sabrina. When she pulled her eyes from the screen to look at him, she saw him struggling to stay awake. 

She felt Henry’s rhythmic breathing in her lap, but didn’t move him, wanting to finish the movie before putting him into bed. 

She watched Audrey look out the window at the streets of Paris. She watched her sit down, writing the letter to her father. 

She cried quietly, silently, the way she had so many nights. Her hand to her mouth, stifling the sound of sobs. 

“Mommy?”

She felt the small brown eyes on her, and looked down to see Henry, wide awake, crying himself. She gathered him into her lap, wiping his tears away, forgetting her own. 

“What happened, Mommy?”

“Nothing, sweetheart.” She sniffled. “This movie just makes Mommy cry. It’s okay to cry. Come here.” She wrapped him in her arms, holding his face to her chest, his cheek against her heartbeat. 

  
  


* * *

The night of Nate’s gala, Dan took Blair back to his apartment. They slipped out separately; Blair telling Chuck she had a migraine, that she didn’t want to ruin his fun, and that she’d take a cab back to her mother’s, who was home for the holidays. 

Dan had gotten an apartment on the Lower East Side after the split. It was big for one person, and exposed brick lined the walls, almost a ghost of the loft. 

When they got inside, Blair froze, almost imperceptibly. A pair of heels lay discarded by the door. 

Dan waved his hand absentmindedly, going into the kitchen to get her a glass of water. 

“Jenny’s. She left them here after dinner last night. Her shit’s all over the place.” 

Blair stayed still, her own shoes half-off. 

“She’s staying with her boyfriend for the rest of the week.” Dan said, beckoning her to come inside. 

“Boyfriend? What’s he like?” Blair asked, taking the glass.

Dan shrugged. “Nice, normal.” 

“That must be refreshing.” 

Dan chuckled, opening the fridge. 

“He makes her happy. I have left over pizza and microwaveable mac-and-cheese. Take your pick.” 

“I see you’re really honing in on the bachelor lifestyle,” She felt herself smiling. Dan turned to her with a pointed look. “I’ll have the pizza.”

They rented a movie that Blair didn’t watch. They didn’t talk much. It had been so long since she was alone with him, like this. Just a couch and a screen. Nothing separating them. She didn’t know what to do with it. 

She tried to hide it when she yawned, but Dan caught her. He told her to take the bed, that he’d fallen asleep on the couch enough times to know it was comfortable. 

He handed her an old shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. 

“My silk sets at the cleaners.” He said, making her laugh, the knot in her stomach settling a little. 

She laid in bed wide awake, the smell of him all around her. She felt like she was going to vomit. 

She ran her hands against the soft, worn-in sheets, and thought about the last time Dan had hid her from the world. How he’d upended his life, his home, to keep her safe. 

She got up and walked back out to the living room. Dan was sitting on the couch, laptop in front of him. 

“Hey,” she said, startling him slightly. He closed the laptop instinctively, nodding at her and patting the spot on the couch next to him. She took a seat.

Like reading her mind, he said,

“Are the sheets keeping you up? I can put on a fresh one.” 

She smiled, shaking her head. 

“Are you writing?” She asked. He nodded. 

For the first time in a long time, the quiet in the room was nice. There was nothing laying underneath it. No uneasiness, no withdrawing of affection, no seething rage about to blow. 

Blair had forgotten how much she liked the quiet. 

“I can’t sleep.” She said, 

Dan paused for a moment, then stood up, holding out his hand. She took it, let him lead her back into the bedroom. He got onto the bed, and so did she, tucking herself under the covers. He stayed on top of them. 

They lay facing each other, like little kids at a sleepover. 

“You grew a beard.” 

“I did. Do you like it?”

“Yes.” She reached out, running her fingers over it, then pulled her hand away apologetically. 

“Good,” he said. “If you didn’t I’d have to shave it off.”

She looked up at him, eyes big and voice low. 

“I thought about you every day.” She said plainly, like it was well-known, and she was only repeating it. And maybe it was. 

“I thought about you too.” He said, and she could see he knew what she really meant. And he meant it too. 

When she closed her eyes, with only the sounds of the traffic below them, and Dan’s steady breathing, close enough she could feel it on her skin, she could almost pretend like nothing had changed. Like she had never made any mistakes. Like she had made all the right choices. 

* * *

The divorce isn’t easy, not by a long shot, but it’s nothing compared to the custody battle.

To say it rocks the Upper East Side would be an understatement. A high magnitude earthquake would cause less of a stir. Eleanor and Cyrus extend their holiday, moving back to the city for the time being. Their apartment is surrounded by hounds of tabloids, all trying to get a glimpse into the fall of the Waldorf-Bass empire.

“He’ll have the best lawyers in the country on his side.” She had said through tears, clutching onto her mother like a little girl.

“Yes, he will, dear.” Cyrus said, his hand rubbing circles on her back. “But you will have us.” 

  
  


When Henry isn’t with her, Blair spends most of her time at Dan’s.

They do the things they used to, in secret, like they used to. They watch movies and eat waffles and argue about the decline of Godard’s work. But there’s still a feeling of unsettlement caught in Blair’s throat. She pictures Lily and Rufus, all those years ago, on a couch like this one, at a table like this one, in a bed like this one. The monitor on her ankle had kept them both locked up.

Blair thinks she’s never felt more at home, but she can’t shake the image of being out of place. Sometimes, in the right light, during the right laugh, Dan looks just like his father. She is painfully aware that she doesn’t look anything like Lily. That there’s someone else out there who does.

She catches Dan catch himself. Hovering hands, prolonged glances, leaning towards her then stopping short. There is a part of her that wants him more than ever, that wants to pull him on top of her, wrap her legs around his waist, feel his lips on hers again.

There’s a cruel irony in still having to wait, now that’s she’s so close to being free from it. All she’s ever done is wait. She thinks she’s spent her whole life waiting. 

* * *

One of the downsides of having had a spur of the moment wedding in Central Park on the cusp of being arrested is not having signed a prenuptial agreement. One of the downsides of having married the person you thought you were fated to be with, til death do you part, is not having signed a _post_ nuptial agreement. Blair is grateful when Cyrus offers to handle all communication between the Waldorf and Bass legal teams. 

After getting off the phone with Cyrus, Blair wanders back into the kitchen to find Dan making breakfast; omelettes and French press coffee. He had walked up to Sant Ambroeus every other morning for croissants and lattes, usually before she woke up. 

Something strikes her in the way the sunlight hits the countertop, the silverware glinting. His shirt is old and tattered, the _Strand_ logo almost completely faded. His beard is scraggly, having not trimmed it for a few days. The newspaper lays discarded on the kitchen island atop an issue of Vogue. It’s a picture of perfect domesticity. She imagines, just for a moment, Henry sitting at the countertop. Whip cream or powdered sugar on his face. His hair, which got curlier as he got older, falling into his eyes. A family.

She goes around the island and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. He hums and she feels it on her cheek. He turns the stove off, turns around and kisses her without thinking. He pulls back abruptly, an apology about to escape. But Blair reaches back up, traps it between their lips. 

She had imagined a moment more cinematic for their first kiss. First-new-kiss. First-kiss-after-all-this-time. She had thought about it over and over again, while he lay asleep next to her, close enough to touch but far enough that she didn’t dare to. Nothing she’d imagined came as close to perfection as this. 

She turns back to the island, taking a seat and picking up the newspaper, flipping it open. Henry’s eyes stare back, like they’re watching her. But they’re not Henry’s. She closes the paper without reading the headline. 

“I’m not very hungry.” She says all of a sudden.

Dan turns, looks at her almost guiltily. 

“That’s okay. Still want coffee?” 

She nods. He pours her a cup in a chipped ceramic mug.

“Did everything go okay? On the call?”

She nods again, blowing on the coffee to cool it. 

“I’m not leaving him for you.” She says, “I’m leaving him for me.” 

“I know.” Dan says. 

“But I’m leaving him with you.” 

Blair thinks about the backseat of that car, her white dress like a straitjacket, the way she stared at the back of Dan’s head as they weaved through traffic. How she’d move to look out the window every time he turned around to check on her. She thinks about the ride back from the gala that night, her in the passenger's seat, Dan’s fist tight on the steering wheel. 

_What if I lose everything?_

She had left behind a throne. She had left behind an empire.

But after everything she’s left behind, she doesn’t feel like she’s lost a thing. 

* * *

Serena hadn’t spoken to her for three weeks.

**B, I just read about the divorce. Why didn’t you tell me? Call me ASAP**

She had left it on read, as well as four missed calls, for three hours before calling Nate. 

“I can’t get in the middle of this, Blair.” He said, “You know I will always stand with you, in everything else, but when it comes to you and Serena, I do not want to get caught in the crossfire.” 

Her fist was balled up on her lap. If this was before, she’d have whined until he gave in. But it wasn’t before. 

“I’ll tell her, but you have to go over there and do damage control. Please. Lay on the puppy dog eyes.” 

“This is serious, Blair. You don’t know what she could do to herself when she finds out.” 

_I’ve spent my entire life worrying about her_ , Blair thought. 

It takes her another hour to form a response.

**It’s a long story. I’ve been staying with Dan part time. We reconnected at Nate’s.**

**Maybe we should meet and talk in person.**

Three weeks later, her phone chimes. 

**Sarabeth’s at noon.**

When Blair walks into Sarabeth’s, she half-expects to find a red dot trained on her forehead. Serena is in their usual booth. This was an image Blair had seen many times, a tired, drawn-out Serena, with a plate of uneaten food in front of her. If this was before, she would have clicked her heels over, stood impatiently in front of her, and waited for a hug. She would have ducked her face into the mess of blonde curls, smelling the sea salt spray Serena used every morning. She would have sat across from her, their pinkies intertwined. 

But it wasn’t before.

Blair took a seat across from her. 

“I’m sure I’m the last person you want to see.” 

Serena looks up, but not at her, her eyes trained somewhere over Blair’s head. 

“I’m the one who called you here.” 

“Right,” Blair says. A beat. “Look, S -“ 

“You should have told me sooner. You owe me that much.” 

Blair musters as much courage as she can to look at her. 

“I knew it was you,” Serena keeps her eyes fixed just past Blair. “I tried so hard to make it me. But it was always you.” 

_Now you know how I felt_ , Blair thinks. But they were not children anymore. 

Blair stares down at the uneaten plate of food, lifting her fingers to brush her tears away. 

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But it did. I’m not asking for permission. I’m asking you for forgiveness.”

There’s an anger in Serena’s eyes that hurts Blair more than the shards of glass ever did. 

“I don’t know if I can give that to you.”

“I can wait. I will wait.” 

Serena gets up, leaving a few bills on the table. 

_BFF means best friends forever._ But they were not children anymore. 

* * *

It takes her some time, but eventually she shows Dan the scars. 

It takes all the strength in her to unbutton her sweater, pull away her hair. 

Ragged lines, along the top of her shoulder. Remnants of sliced skin from shattered glass. _He hadn’t meant to get so drunk. He hadn’t meant to get so angry. He hadn’t meant for it to hit her. She was just in the way._

She tells Dan that it wasn’t always bad. That there was good. Great, even. The period of time between Central Park and Henry. After that, it was like he used up all his happiness. Like he’d spent it all. Angry or apathetic or absent. That was all he could afford. 

“He never laid a hand on me.” She insists, because the way Dan’s jaw is tensing is making her heartbeat quicken nervously. 

“That doesn’t make it better, Blair.” He tries to keep his voice level. 

“You could use this against him in court.” He says, and immediately regrets it when he does. Blair stands up, facing away from him, chewing her lip. 

“They would never let Henry see him again. I couldn’t do that to him. I wouldn’t do that to him.” 

Dan rubs his face, extending a hand to Blair. She doesn’t hesitate to take it. 

“I know. I’m just - I’m so angry. I don’t know what to say.” 

Blair sits back down next to him. 

“I thought that Chuck was the only person I could ever bring myself to love. Because he was the only person that could bring himself to love me. I know now that’s not true. I guess you taught me something too.” 

When she meets his gaze, she sees he’s crying. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen Dan cry before. She remembers what Serena said in the midst of their split; _Dan never cries. It’s so fucking frustrating. Sometimes I’m so cruel just to see if he ever has a breaking point. It’s like there’s a piece of him missing._

That night, they have sex for the first time again. At first, Dan holds her delicately, treating her like porcelain, making sure to keep his hands away from the ridges that line her. But she kisses him hard, her nails making crescents on his back. She pulls him in deeper, tells him _More more more_. She’s waited long enough. 

When they finish, Dan collapses beside her. He moves the hair out of her face, resting his hand on her cheek.

“What are you thinking about?” She whispers.

He lets out a low sigh. It’s too dark for her to see him clearly. He moves his hand to rest on her sternum, his wrist over her heart. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is gravelly. “It was always you. The whole time. I never stopped loving you.” 

Blair feels their hearts beat together, his pulse over hers. 

“I always wanted it to be you.” She says, and in the darkness of the room, it feels like confessing a sin. “And now it is.”

* * *

The second time Blair watches _Sabrina_ with Henry, it’s during the custody proceedings. They had just finished watching _Cars_ , a film Henry had seen over a dozen times in his almost-seven years of existence. 

“Mommy sat through your movie, can’t you sit through Mommy’s?” 

Henry looks up at her with a pout. Blair recognizes herself in it immediately. 

“You can have ice cream.” 

Henry’s eyes light up. A mischievousness comes over him. 

“Two scoops?” 

She smiles concededly. She’s taught him well. 

They sit side-by-side, chocolate residue smeared on Henry’s face, his small tongue darting from his mouth trying to lick it off. 

During a scene between Hepburn and Williams, Blair notices him stiffen. 

“Are you taking me away from Daddy?” 

Blair feels her heart stop and start and break all at once. She moves to pause the movie. 

“No. Did Daddy tell you that?” 

Henry stays quiet. Always his father’s keeper. 

“Henry, look at me.” Her voice is more stern than she wanted it to be. 

“Why are you not being married anymore?” He asks finally. 

“We told you, honey. Because we don’t love each other like we used to. And people shouldn’t stay married to each other if they don’t love each other in that way.” 

“Why don’t you love each other?” He says, a question too heavy to be coming from such a small mouth. 

“It’s just something that happens to adults sometimes.”

Henry turns back to look at the TV, the glow illuminating his face. 

“Do you love someone else now?” 

“ _Henry_ ,” and then, “Henry Bass, look at me. Did your father tell you that?” She knows she’s speaking, but she hears Eleanor’s voice.

Henry looks back at her. His eyes filled with tears, just about to spill. She reaches over, pulling him in. They sit in almost silence for a minute, Henry’s sniffles the only sound in the room.

“I love _you_ , Henry. The most. And I always, always will. The love between mommies and babies is different. It never, ever ends. Okay?” 

She holds his face up, kisses him on the nose.

She puts him to bed, reading him a story and turning off all the lights, before playing the movie again.

Alone, in the dark, she watches Audrey look out the window at the streets of Paris. She watches her sit down, write the letter to her father. 

_It’s because of you, Blair Waldorf. You have taught me how to live, how to enjoy everything the world has to offer. You have brought out this side of me I never thought existed. Before you, I did not truly know how to live._

For the first time in a long time, she finishes without crying. 

* * *

Eventually, she shows Serena too. 

She gets Nate to arrange a meeting at Blair’s mother’s. She’s hesitant that Serena will show up at all, but she does, her hair tied up and her gym clothes on. They sit on the couch, a world apart.

“I know you don’t want to hear me explain. And none of this is an excuse for... for being with Dan. I just think it’s time I showed you.” 

She stands, lifts her hair off her neck, drops the fabric from her shoulders like she would when showing off a tan. An unbearable silence fills the room. When she turns around, Serena’s crying. 

Serena reaches out, grasping for Blair’s hands like a life preserver. She pulls Blair down next to her. Her hands feel hot on Blair’s back. 

“Chuck did this to you?” Serena says into Blair’s hair. 

“I used to think he just did it, that it wasn’t to me, that it had nothing to do with me. I was just in the way.” 

“You could have told me,” Serena says through tears, then leans her head on Blair’s shoulder.

“I wanted to tell you. Every day. I just felt so ashamed. You were the first person I wanted to tell about the divorce... but with everything...” 

Serena lets out a choked breath. Her voice is low, heated. “I should have known. About this. That he would do this.”

“You thought he changed... We all did. We were all just waiting for him to change.” 

Serena shakes her head, dejected. “People don’t change.” 

“That’s not true. We’ve changed. We’ve changed so much.” Blair’s voice breaks. “But I still love you so much, S.” 

Serena lifts her head, taking Blair’s cheek into her hand. 

“And I love you,” there’s a beat, and Blair sees something change in Serena’s eyes. 

“But Dan... he makes you happy?” 

“More than I ever thought I could be.” 

They’re both crying. Blair looks down to see their pinkies intertwined. They always find a way back to each other. 

Blair leans her forehead against Serena’s, knowing everything between them has changed. It will never be like before again.

* * *

There are things Blair misses from her world. She misses theatres, double dates, fitting rooms. She misses being able to leave her old home without photos of her being taken, alone, or with Henry. She doesn’t read the headlines. She gets calls from Nate about cease and desists, privacy laws, public announcements posted to the Spectator. She declines and dismisses them all. 

_They’ll forget about all of this in a few weeks time,_ she tells him. _They’ll move onto someone else’s life. I just have to wait it out._

But then Serena and Nate walk a red carpet together. She texts them both, separately, and receives identical answers, giving her the real answer. 

And she feels a pang of jealousy, resentment even, that she can’t walk anywhere with Dan. She hates that their relationship can exist only within the walls of his apartment. She hates that if you search her name, images of Chuck show up. She hates that the world doesn’t know. 

Selfishly, she wants everyone to see the way she loves him. The way she loves how he takes a sip of her coffee before she does to see if it’s too hot. How he can turn anything into a debate, just to watch her get flustered. How he doesn’t wipe the lipstick stains from his cheeks, lips, chin, because he doesn’t want to get rid of them. 

She looks up from the couch where she’s sitting, sees him in the kitchen, his nose in a book. He catches her gaze. He smiles. And she realizes that the world does know she loves him. 

* * *

The day Blair signs the divorce papers, they go out to celebrate. A small restaurant in the Lower East Side. They laugh loud enough to disturb the other tables. They kiss under the streetlights. They hail a cab, drunk and full and happy. No one recognizes them. 

* * *

“I found an apartment,” Dan says over coffee and kale smoothies one morning. They sit at the kitchen island, Blair clicking away at her phone, the news playing on mute in the living room. “On the Upper West Side. Not a penthouse, but the view is nice.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Blair sees a too-familiar face. She turns to see the name she just signed away flash across the screen. She gets up silently, switches off the TV. 

“For us?” 

The corners of Dan’s mouth lift slightly. “I meant for you. But if you’ll have me.” 

Blair makes her way back into the kitchen, taking her time, enjoying the view. Dan’s eyes are still sleepy, his hair sticking up all over. She goes around the island, leans herself against him. He wraps his arms around her waist from behind, resting his head on her shoulder. 

“I didn’t know I was looking.” 

Dan kisses her neck softly, making her heart flutter.

“You can’t live at your mother’s forever. Or you could. I wouldn’t judge.” 

Blair laughs lightly, twisting in his arms so they’re facing each other. 

“I thought...” She plants a kiss on his lips. “I could move in here.” 

Dan’s eyes light up. “Have I converted _the_ Blair Waldorf to the Lower East Side?” 

She takes his face in her hands, leaning in to less of a kiss, more so a smile against his. 

“It’s better than Brooklyn.” 

He laughs, ducking his head. Then his smile drops, his brows knitting together slightly. He clears his throat. 

“I don’t, I mean there’s... only one bedroom here. Henry...” 

Blair lets go of his face, guilt washing over her. _Being a mother changes you_ , she’d said. She was afraid it wasn’t changing her fast enough. 

She places a light hand on his arm, signalling for him to withdraw, which he obliges. 

“Maybe he shouldn’t live with me anyway... maybe it’s too soon.” There’s a strain in Dan’s voice that Blair can feel in her gut. She drums her fingers against the countertop, then takes a seat. 

“We’ll go look at that apartment. Together.”

Dan rests his hand on her knee. 

“Are you sure?” 

She nods. 

“It’s not too soon. I’ve known you for twelve years. He’s known you all his life. It’ll be difficult, no doubt, but we can do it. We’re a team.” 

She takes a sip from his coffee, picks a strawberry from his plate and plops it in her mouth. “And I _do_ like the Upper West Side more.” 

She doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling.

  
  


* * *

Their lawyers decide on parallel parenting. Blair can’t help but laugh bitterly, picturing a scene from a life long ago. Four kids around one table, face to face, a call for peace. Now she finds herself in a cold room, three people separating them. She never meets Chuck’s eyes. There was real blood between them now. 

She despises picking apart every aspect of Henry’s life. She hates handing pieces of him over. She hates watching her child be treated like another one of Bass Industries deals that she watched Chuck close so many times before. Splitting him like property. 

But when she signs the dotted line, she knows it’s the last time she’ll ever have to give Chuck anything of hers. 

* * *

Dan collapses on the bed after a full day of packing his apartment into boxes. Most of his clothes await a trip to a donation bin.

 _If you’re going to be on the arm of Blair Waldorf, you’re going to have to dress like it_.

Blair lies on her stomach, half asleep, having done no work at all in his apartment or her mother’s. He presses a hot hand on her back, rubs it absentmindedly. She shifts her head to look at him. She sees something in his hand. 

“What’s that?” Blair slurs into the pillow. 

Dan doesn’t look at her, just hands her the small plush toy.

“Found this. It was Milo’s. I have no idea why I kept it this long.” He turns to look down at her. “I want Henry to have it.” 

Blair holds the toy to her chest. 

“He‘ll love it.” 

Dan shakes his head, turning back to look out into the empty room. 

“No, he won’t. He’s seven. He’ll hate it.” 

Blair smiles. _He’s going to be good at this_.

They sit like that in silence, Dan’s palm splayed out on her back

“What’re you thinking about?” She asks.

“How much I love you.”

“How much is that?” She smiles sweetly, but he doesn’t see it, looking straight ahead. 

“So much it feels like I have the whole world caught in my throat.” 

Blair sits up, her hand finding his knee to steady herself. 

“Is that a line from one of your books?” She asks quietly.

Dan shakes his head lightly. 

She places a finger under his chin, lifting his face to meet hers. 

“Well it should be.” 

“I’ll make a note of that.” 

“I love you, too.” She says, and when she kisses him, there’s twelve years of waiting wrapped up in it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from In California by Joanna Newsom.


End file.
